The Butterfly Effect
by ShinyRedPenny
Summary: How one small moment can change everything.


Sansa woke like a flash, just barely registering the soft rolling thunder over the pounding of her heart and her gasps of fear. Her eyes darted over the dark room wildly as she tried to steady herself-tried to assure herself that it was all just a dream. Her fingers gripped at the sheets tightly before she took a deep breath and forced herself to relax. It was just a dream. It was all just a terrible dream. But Gods how it had felt so real.

 _"Leave her face...I like her pretty"_

Sansa shivered at the memory of the blonde man with eyes filled with cruelty who had sat on that ugly, imposing chair as he had ordered her beaten. Who was he? What had she done to him to deserve such hatred?

Suddenly as cold as the winds outside, she pulled the thick furs back and climbed out of her bed. She shrugged on the heavy cloak her father had gifted her a few years ago for her tenth name day and made her way to the hearth, where the last few embers were glowing. Biting back irritation that the serving girls had let her fire go out so quickly, she moved quickly to throw on a few more logs and blew gently on the remaining heat so that it would catch again. After a few moments of her administrations, a small flicker began climbing its way over the fresh wood. She smiled slightly at her work before standing again and making her way back to her warm bed. She kept the wolf cloak wrapped firmly around her shoulders as she climbed back under the sheets. It may be silly, but Sansa felt as if it were her father's arms around her instead-keeping her safe from all that would do her harm.

She had half a mind to flee from her rooms and go in search of Arya, like they had done when they were little and had night terrors. She couldn't even remember the last time Arya had crawled into her bed late at night wanting comfort. They had been so close not that long ago. But they had grown apart in the past few years as her little sister had gotten wilder and wilder and as Sansa had grown into a lady. As soon as lessons started on needlework, dancing, and singing, and they were both expected to leave childhood games behind, Sansa had excelled, leaving her sister in the dust. She was ashamed to admit it, but Sansa had been secretly pleased that her little sister had failed so miserably at being a true lady. It had been Sansa who was showered with praise from their septa and Mother. Sansa who had her mothers coloring and would surely grow to be a great beauty. Sansa who would never have to be worried about being overshadowed by her sister. But there were times when she missed being able to relax around her siblings and play like Arya still did. Times when she would hear them all laugh together and feel excluded. Times when she would meet eyes with her half brother and see the pain in his gaze before he would turn away from her. Those were the times she wished she could shake off the mask that she had carefully cultivated and run free with her pack. Then maybe she wouldn't feel quite so alone now.

She screwed her eyes shut as that green gaze flashed before her again. No one had ever looked at her the way the man in her dream had. There had been so much hatred, so much cruel glee in those emerald eyes and it had terrified her. All she wanted to do was forget her horrible nightmare, but she couldn't shake the fear that gripped her. She could almost still feel the mailed fist of the ugly knight doing the golden man's bidding sinking into her abdomen. She had glanced around the strange, crowded room begging for help, but of all the beautiful people that had surrounded her, none would come to her aid. No one would stop the pain from coming. She could still hear the ringing of steel being unsheathed and could feel arms of the Stranger wrapping around her shoulders, ready to drag her to his halls. But then she had heard something else as well... Just before the God's gave her the mercy of bringing her out of such a nightmare, she had heard one voice rising above her own screams of terror calling for the knight to stop. She wondered who her savior had been. Who had dared rise against this evil man to protect her when no other would.

But then she shook her head and willed all memories of the nightmare away. She was being foolish. She settled back against her pillow and forced her breathing to even out and her mind to relax. It was just a dream. It meant nothing. She was the eldest, most beautiful daughter of the Warden of the North. She was untouchable.


End file.
